Angel
by Craziness-n-love
Summary: Elizabeth's tale... Her worries, anger, confusion, and hope.


**A/N: OK. So. This was in my head for an unbelievably long time. Until I finally wrote it. SO. Here y'go. Please Review when you're done!**

**Disclaimer: **_All characters and plot belong to Stephenie Meyer… and HEY. While we're at it, pretty much everything belongs to her. Mel is simply a minion. _

I clutched the worn blanket to my heart, and bit my lip to keep from screaming. The sour taste of blood reached my tongue, and I bit down harder. Memories were flooding my mind; my Edward, laughing, running, pointing excitedly to a newly acquired trinket, earnestly explaining a recent dream or sighting.

I frantically choked back sobs.

More memories were rendered forth, overwriting the previous, rather joyful memories. These new memories were biting at the corners of my soul, ominously threatening to burst through and express them selves through another screaming fit, as happened yesterday.

My Edward, being ripped away from me, my Edward, crying, screaming… my Edward, _dying._

I let out a strangled cry, bringing the torn rags over my face to suppress my sobs, which were threateningly close to shattering the eerie silence.

I felt the blanket tear once more between my fingers; it was very thin, not designed for mistreatment, and I was certainly abusing it, using it to stifle my cries and absorb my agony.

The influenza was a deadly disease; even the uneducated knew as much. When I woke up one night, coughing uncontrollably, I dreaded the physician's visit. All I could feel was the dizziness; the feverish symptoms were obvious. I was prepared wore the worst, but hoping it wouldn't be.

The physician arrived then; Edward had opened the door, leading him to the room where I was propped on a single cot, still feeling numb.

I was expecting a very rich, unfeeling man... a rough personality, perhaps. I was imagining his visit as a dreadful experience, might I live through it. Since, being quite poor as a child, the rare physician's visit was quite hazy in my memory.

An angel walked through the door. Upon seeing his face, I was overcome by a feeling; something I couldn't quite place.

_…Hope?_

He handled me gently, like I was breakable, as if I might snap in half if he didn't take all precautions to keep me in one piece. I was grateful for this; it hurt to simply talk. I marveled at his angelic perfection. His graceful movements, his eyebrows furrowing, smoothing, and then, furrowing again. His every blink; his every expression was entrancing.

He spoke with a grave face, "Elizabeth…" He trailed off, pain etched on his flawless features.

I expected as much. "I have it, don't I?" I whispered hoarsely.

He nodded mournfully, meeting my eyes with such a genuinely concerned expression, that I was taken aback. The worst was confirmed. I concentrated on speaking; I had to talk, despite the pain it caused.

"I have to go. Edward—my Edward—He'll catch the disease, he'll die! _I have to go_!" I was whispering intensely, ignoring the burning pain in my throat, spreading slowly to the rest of my body.

I slipped out of consciousness, right before I saw my Edward's eyes in my mind. Wide, sparkling, worried eyes. I woke with a start, groping around to recognize my surroundings.

_Bed…blanket…people?_ Compression slowly dawned—I was in the hospital. The Angel had appeared at my side, his golden eyes radiating youth, and… something else. Something special. _He_ was special.

"Is… is… Edward?" I couldn't voice the entire thought.

He nodded morosely, holding my hand. For the second time that day, I was slipping away. The days passed, nights fell, I couldn't keep track. I had to stay- for Edward. Terrible images corroded my mind, his sparkling green eyes fading away, his bright golden hair changing slowly to a withering gray. I sobbed endlessly. I could feel the energetic heartbeat of my life slowing, and I knew the time was drawing near.

_Edward…not my Edward…_ _please…_

I was pleading in my dream. Edward was lying on the tattered bed sheets, his lifeless body burning into my mind. His lips were a deathly purple, his skin a flaky white. The angel flew across the room. He landed next to my Edward, and closed his eyes. And suddenly, the room was absorbed in a vibrant light. And then, I was awake.

Everything was blurry. I couldn't make out one person from the next. All I could hear was a light buzzing sound, and all I could feel was the perspiration dripping down my cheeks. The colors of the sun disappeared, and I was left drenched in darkness. A light approached the cot, golden and brilliant. I glared up at him with every ounce of strength I could muster. He could do it. This Angel… this was something special. I could feel it.

"Save him." I commanded the angel, looking at his spectacular radiance, willing him to understand me.

His words cut through my ears, perfectly, clearly, "I'll do everything in my power."

I clutched the hand that had gotten wound through my own, holding it like my lifeline.

"You must. You must do everything in _your _power. What others cannot do, that is what you must do for my Edward." I bore my gaze through his own, watching the emotions flicker. Fear, confusion, understanding, _determination._

I slowly released my grip, drifting away for the very last time. And I closed my eyes, with newfound hope that, with the help of an Angel, my Edward would live.


End file.
